Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Warrior Women

My mother died before I was born; she had human breath, but no Spirit.
I cried out for a mother’s comfort, but none of my mothers could hear it.
I have the soul of a warrior, taken from my father and his mothers,
And when my father beat me, I wasn’t protected by any others.

The women who loved him saw that my turning from him made him weak;
This was the sense of control for which they all pretended to seek.
 Because I so wanted a mother, I’ve taken the whole world under my wing;
Having no strength or skills I could offer, except for the songs I sing.

Oh My Sisters, how I've loved you as I lay with you on your pyre;
To shelter you from the destructive flame was my only heart's desire.
How did we come to this where you let me stand accused
Of perpetrating the crimes of those by whom you were abused?

Oh My Children, how is it that when you learned to walk on your own,
You have allowed me to be scorned in your families' homes?
How is it that I was fed to the lions when I finally felt my own pain,
Didn't I hold you after your bloody falls, again and again?

I have waited as you mothered your children and claimed your dignity
But to salve my warrior's wounds, who has responsibility?
Will there never be loving mothers' arms to encircle me?
Will you never look for a  way to have a heart that, for me, is free?

You seem to dance with angels and sit upon Your Father's lap
But your invitations to join you have always been a trap.
You seem to want to be His favorite, so you ask me to entertain;
Then you point out how foolish I am, and treat me with disdain.

I have tried to make you love me with becoming your handmaiden;
I didn't have the courage to believe that I could be your friend.
I have nursed your children and worked with you to appease your men
You have said you want us to enjoy time together; my question is, "When?"

I have retreated into myself, trying to preserve the little light
That is left inside my earth-bound soul, which used to burn so bright.
If it was possible to simply will ourselves to fade away,
Drifting away on the waves to the sun is that for which I'd pray.
What we are taught to call fear is the awe of complete unearthly peace;
We have even turned our personal faces of God into the faces of beasts
Love and fear are mutually exclusive, as are love and distrust.
Fear is what fuels greed and abuse; which are both born of lust.

Many women want the comfort of their own warrior’s sheltering arms,
Paying no attention to other mothers and children that are harmed.
 They all were taught that to survive meant they had to bend their knees,
And to sacrifice even their own babies to, their Jealous Lords, please.

These women feed their own young to these men to protect themselves,
And learn to harden their hearts to the carnage’s sounds and smells.
These women fail to understand that a beast who conquers, with fear, a child
Should not be allowed a place in community life, except perhaps, in the wild.

Men who rule with cruelty avoid me; those of kind strength are friends.
Not the men, but their women fear me, that I will harm their cowering men.
The cowards hide behind their women’s skirts when someone confronts them;
These women who will not stand with their sisters do not demand amends.

I cannot and will not befriend a person with a vengeful heart;
In my feelings for the abusers, trust and love cannot  be a part.
The quandary has become that women who see their men respect me
Don’t realize that conquered enemies are all their men may ever be.

You may rest easy, My Sisters, your man doesn’t interest me.
It is not me that is a threat to you; it’s your own insecurity.
Woman who bows before no man, a man finds hard to resist her.
If you stand up to this beast; you like me, may lose many sisters.

But what good is a sister if she has no warrior in her soul?
In order to protect our young, it is important that we be bold.
It was never my intent to bring the men you call your own, harm;
But I will attempt no relationship while he’s wrapped in your sheltering arms. 
I didn't know that you, my friend, were afraid to stand alone;
I've never really had a place that I could consider my safe home.
I would rather lose you with the hope that we will one day reunite
Than to risk harming you any further with my grief's might.

I pray that all the people I've loved and lost will remember me kindly,
When our peaceful souls identify each other in Eternity.
And my mother's sweet soul won't foresake me for someone else;
There will be no more need to fear me, for I'll be my baby self

1 comment:

  1. WOW, what a tale of remorse, but determination to be the Mother with a heart and earthly breath.
    Seems this is a tale of hidden, then displayed love. Brought to the front byone who would not be 'SUBDUED'.
    God Bless